There is, happily, no limit to the faith of human nature in believing what it wants to believe.

I don't trust sentimentality in men; it goes with tyranny; you can't have one without the other.

The wretched Artist himself is alternatively the lowest worm that ever crawled when no fire is in him; or the loftiest God that ever sand when the fire is going.

When the desire is on for one particular person, nobody else will do.

One should never go back to a place one has loved; for, however, rough the going forward is, it is better than the snuffing out-of-love return.

there is this malign curse laid on dipsomaniacs. That they must absolutely have a drink: in order to feel strong enough to stop drinking.

My bitterness is not an abstract substance, it is as solid as a Christmas cake; I can cut it in slices and hand it round and there is still plenty left, for tomorrow.

England, where nobody ever says what they mean: and by denying feeling, kill it off stone-cold at the roots.

Jealousy is the lifelong noose hanging about the neck of love.

resignation, perhaps the most stifling word in the language.

I had got to the dawn of the beautiful not caring, but fully aware, stage, which degenerates so imperceptibly into the doing something unpermissible stage.

I don't mind foreigners. God save the queen!" he squeaked and ran.

Aspire higher to attain excellence in whatever you do. But be careful when you reach the peak, where the only way is the way downwards. Maintain your standard!

Sleep that knits up the ravell'd slave of care The death of each day's life sore labour's bath Balm of hurt minds great nature's second course Chief nourisher in life's feast.

We've got to laugh or break our hearts in this damnable world.

You don't have to be like everybody else or do things like everybody else. God created you to be a unique individual, and He wants you to be free to be who He made you to be.

So there might be a kind of collective effort that allows for those risks to be taken, pose a certain danger but not a suicidal one.

Writing was always an aspiration, but I'd kept it a secret even from myself.

We can tell the world that there is life after death, but the world really seems to be wondering if there is life before death.

[Sigmund Freud] just made people feel so neurotic about their lives. I mean, if you dreamt about a lampshade, it meant you wanted to be whipped by the local vicar or something.

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity